


Summer Rain

by tprillahfiction



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Georgia, Home, M/M, PWP, Shore Leave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-26
Updated: 2011-06-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 18:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/215643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tprillahfiction/pseuds/tprillahfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirk and McCoy enjoy a thunderstorm (and rain) on their first night of shore-leave in their new home in Conyers, Georgia.<br/>Kirk/McCoy PWP. (porn-without-plot) Rating: NC-17</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for umbrellas_can for nutrekexchange over at livejournal.  
> May 2011

Bones jolts awake at the threatening noise of a thunderclap. He yawns, reaches his arms up to stretch, leans over, notes the chrono on the mantel of the fireplace (2:40am--NOT 02:40 hundred hours). There is the telltale sleep ache in his neck from the crappy old sofa they'd picked up at somebody's garage sale because they couldn't be bothered to head to a decent furniture shop to pick out a nice one, yet. He always winds up at a weird angle if he dozes off on this thing, spine misaligned, foot sticking out, too damned hot, the sprung coil in the middle cushion poking into his ass cheek.

He groans as he pushes himself to a sitting position. A hand woven Mexican style blanket, that he doesn't remember being there before, slides from his hips, hitting the floor with a soft thump.

Letting out a soft belch, he stands up scratching the strip of hair on his belly. The cherry wood floor's cold--haven't bought any rugs yet. He walks to the guest bathroom off the hallway, rubbing the dent in his ass from the spring. He takes a quick piss, then rummages through his medical bag, glancing at his haggard reflection in the mirror.

The bedroom door is slightly ajar. He pushes it open wider, the hinges squeaking.

Theres no Jim Kirk to be found sleeping in the bed. Shit. That means the damned fool took off somewhere. The car keys to the Ford are still here, on the night table, so that most likely meant Jim's on foot, wandering all over town in the middle of night. He could be anywhere, maybe lost, or eaten by coyotes or bitten by a snake, but most likely was holed up in some bar somewhere, or he hated to think, in somebody else's bed, or even worse, engaged in a bar fight, or lying in a gutter somewhere, stabbed or struck by lightening. God Dammit.

Bones pulls on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans, grabs the set of keys off the nightstand, heads out the front door. It's pouring down rain outside. Not really safe to navigate the roads right now, but he needs to find that kid.

He hustles across the covered porch, reaching the steps, then hears a voice call out: "Going somewhere?"

There's a figure sitting on the mahogany porch swing. Another mexican style woven blanket is pulled up to his neck. Bones sighs in relief. "Jim."

"Where are you going?"

"I, uh…" He shakes his head. "I thought, you uh…"

"You thought I was out there? In that shit? Though, I'll admit, I considered it."

"Yeah. I thought, you might…uh…" Bones' eyes are downcast. He's fiddling with the keys. "I think I owe you an apology, Jim."

"Forget it. Come here."

"Jim you should come in the house. Not safe to be out here." Jim opens up the blanket and motions for Bones to join him.

Bones sighs and drops the car keys onto the decking and dives underneath the proffered blanket. He pulls it down to their waists. Under the blanket Jim is shirtless, clad only in his green underpants along with a pair of black cowboy boots. "Jesus Christ, aren't you hot under here? It's gotta be 90 degrees outside."

"98.2 That's what it said on the weather report."

"So why do you have a blanket?"

"Just feel like it. Snuggly. Report said there's another nasty storm cell moving in. Pretty lightening." There's a tall can of 'Coors' beer at Jim's feet. Jim reaches down to fetch it, puts it too his lips and takes a long swig.

In the ensuing silence, Bones studies Jim's boots then finally chuckles. "Still won't take 'em off."

"Nope."

"Reckon you're gonna sleep with those things on?"

"I might," Jim replies. "Only to make sure you don't steal 'em away from me. They're comfortable."

"Gonna wear 'em on the bridge of the Enterprise?"

"Maybe."

Leonard huffs and rolled his eyes in mock disgust. "You'll have to take 'em off to shower."

"Maybe I won't take a shower, ever."

"Then I won't be fucking you, ever."

"That's fine."

"Idiot."

"Still jealous, Bones?"

"I'm not jealous, Jim," Bones fibs.

"Oh, I so think you are. You're practically GREEN with envy. Just because I won the raffle--"

"You only bought one goddamned ticket, Jim," Bones protests, the piss and vinegar returning to him. He gestures to underline his complaint. "One goddamned ticket. That just isn't fair. I spent forty credits on how many tickets--"

"Ten."

"Ten and you buy one single, solitary fucking raffle ticket and you win those goddamned boots. It just ain't fair. Those things are worth 700 credits."

"That's why they feel so good." Bones scowls at that and Jim breaks into a smile, flashing his intense blue eyes. It's something that never fails to affect Leonard McCoy. Make his heart go all aflutter. He'll never admit to that out loud. Those blue bedroom eyes are sending signals to his dick and he shifts slightly to take the pressure off the crotch. "Poor baby," Jim crows at him.

"I'll show you poor baby." Leonard reaches over, pulls Jim to him, claims his mouth, giving him a kiss to end all kisses. Jim tastes good, tastes like Coors. Jim feels damned good against his own lips. Bones' cock has jumped to full throbbing hardness.

Jim says rather breathlessly after they finally come up for air: "I guess you must really be sorry."

"Uh huh, I guess I am." In all seriousness Bones repeats: "I really am, Jim. I shouldn't have said the nasty things I did."

Jim shrugs. "Were you really planning on going out there looking for me? Driving in this storm?" He indicates the rain falling behind them, beyond the covered porch. "Aren't you still drunk?"

"No," Leonard says, sheepishly, leans over, picks up the can of beer, takes a sip. "Gave myself a hypo."

Jim scratches an eyebrow then brushes a lock of Leonard's dark wavy hair away that's fallen into his eyes. "I shouldn't have competed in the rodeo without asking you first."

"No shit. That's why I got so angry."

"I know."

"Thought you were gonna get yourself killed. Gored. Stomped. No telling' what that bull would have done--"

"I lasted eight seconds on that bull."

"That's longer than you last in bed," Bones shoots back.

"Keep talkin' old man," Jim says, laughing. "Keep talking." He pulls the can away from Bones' mouth, finishes off the rest of it. "I'll have to admit I was scared, too. After the bull threw me off, I thought that was it, I was done for, but the rodeo clowns--"

"Yeah. That's why they pay 'em the big bucks."

"Really? They make good credits?"

"I dunno." Leonard shrugs. "No more than we make, probably."

"We don't save the universe for the money, Bones."

"'Course not, Jim." They're quiet for long moments as they sit listening to the patter of rain.

"Next time," Jim eventually says, "I'll ask you first, okay?"

"Next time?" Bones blanches, scrunching his eyes at the lightening flash then bracing himself at the loud thunderclap. "Jesus. That one was close."

"One Mississippi, two Mississippi', three Mississippi."

"Next time?" Bones continues to sputter. "Jim!"

"I'm kidding, Bones!" Jim holds his hands up. "Honest. My one experience riding a bull at the local town rodeo was enough."

"I don't believe you, sometimes. You really piss me off."

"That's what you said earlier."

"First time even going to a goddamned rodeo. First day of our shore leave. First week alone together in six months. You beg me, plead with me to take you to one. 'Please Bones, please Bones!', you know, that pathetic begging you do. I only agreed 'cause they got fucking Coors on tap at the bar at the top of the stands. First, you win those goddamned black cowboy boots, then you excuse yourself to go to the mens room. Next thing I know, you've entered the goddamned bull riding competition. The bull-riding competition! Someone who's never had any experience riding a bull before. And they announce 'Jim Kirk' and you come out of the gate and you're on this black and white speckled bull with these huge balls--"

"You would notice the bull's balls."

"And you! You all roped in, riding this thing one handed--"

"That's how you're supposed to ride it, Bones."

"Wearing a goddamned black cowboy hat…what happened to that thing?"

"I dunno. Lost it."

"Fuck."

"Why?"

"'Cause, y'all looked so fucking hot in them jeans and boots and shirt and hat riding that fucking bull, leaping up in the air so majestically, your hand held high, I was so proud of you, but I was so scared that I couldn't' move--"

"I'm sorry, Bones."

"I--" Bones swallows thickly. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Yeah. Just some bruises."

"Ass."

"Yeah, there too." There's a loud lightening strike interrupting Jim's careless, sarchastic smile and so they count: "One mississippi, two Mississippi, Three Mississippi, four," before the accompanying thunder clap. One thing notable about Conyers, Georgia specifically, are the purple, blue and green lightening. Thunderstorms are frightening to experience in Bones' book, but damn beautiful to look at.

Suddenly the rain appears to increase twofold. "Jim…lets go inside." He slides a finger along the waistband of Jim's shorts, dipping down to stroke the soft public hair found there to convince him. Jim's cock seems to agree. "Come on."

"Why, Bones?"

"As I keep saying, Captain sir, it's hotter than a mother fucker out here, humid as all hell and it's dangerous to be outside right now. You got it?"

"You know what I love about you? You're terrified of practically everything and you continually have to bitch about it in that dripping molasses of an accent that gets thicker the minute we transport into Georgia."

Bones hesitates for a moment at that. Jim has never uttered the "L" word, before, in any instance, even jokingly. He clears his throat. "Come on, Jim. Got a nice bed in there going to waste."

"No. We're fine, right here, just as we are. You're safe with me, Bones. It's kinda romantic snuggled up under the blanket."

"Romantic?" Bones snorts. "In this heat? We're not safe out here in a thunderstorm."

"Why don't you take your shirt off? It's a few sizes too small for you anyways."

"My 'Ole Miss' shirt fits me just right. I'll thank you very much not to steal it. It's the only thing the ex didn't get to keep."

"It does show off your tight abs." Jim lowers his lust filled eyes. "Take off your jeans."

"Jim, come on."

But Jim's already off the swing, kneeling on the decking in front of Bones, hands working on the button crotch of his Levi's, unfastening them. "Ever gotten a blow-job on a porch swing?"

"Now, what do you think?"

"Okay, ever gotten a blow-job on the porch swing during severe rain and a thunderstorm? At three A.M.?"

"Jim, are you insane? This is crazy. Somebody might see us!"

"Getting prudish old man." Jim succeeds in getting Bones' jeans undone, popping open the last button. He slides down Bones black undershorts. "But you certainly aren't getting soft." He strokes the throbbing cock, first softly, then a little more firmly.

"Jim!"

Jim keeps on jerking. "How long are you gonna keep bitching?"

"As long as you refuse to listen to reason--" He stops as he suddenly feels Jim's hot mouth on him, taking him in, swallowing him down, right to the hilt. "Oh…fuck…" His hands fall to the back of Jim's neck, gently cupping him there. The porch swing sways with their movements.

Jim hums around Bones' cock: "Umm hum…"

"Oh…God…" Bones jerks his hips up slightly, keeping up a steady stream of moaning, hissing, keening as Jim's tongue hits that spot on the underside of his shaft. "Yess…yes…right there…" His hands move continuously, combing through Jim's hair, caressing Jim's bare back, to Jim's arms, back to Jim's neck. Jim's got that blissful suction going on Bones cock, hitting all the right places, nibbling on the foreskin, Jim's right hand helping out, squeezing his balls. Bones leans his head all the way back on the swing, unprotected now from the rain by the roof of the porch. The rain pelts him, soaking his hair but he couldn't care less right now, all he wants is that warmth around him. Jim's beautiful lips, around him. Bones' mouth falls open, rain drops drip onto his tongue and he feels the tightening in his scrotum. "Like that…yeah…just like that." He lets out a loud, embarrassing cry out as he unravels and comes down Jim's throat. He tilts his head up so he can watch Jim swallow everything he gives. Jim wipes his beautiful, pouty lips with the back of his hand.

"You look like a mad man," Jim says, intently staring back at Bones. "You're gorgeous like that."

Leonard, wide eyed, hair rain soaked, breathless, panting, can only laugh his response. Jim leans forward, kissing him gently with those beautiful lips. Bones tastes his own come in Jim's mouth. Jim rises, at the same time pulling up and off Bones' 'Ole Miss' tee-shirt and the jeans and underwear then stepping out of his own cowboy boots and green shorts.

"What are you--"

"Come on." Jim takes him by the hand, leads him down the porch steps and into the back yard.

Bones grounds them to a halt. "Jim, lightening kills approximately seventy people a year--"

"Bones, there's trees in the back yard, lots of 'em, we'll be fine."

"Jim--"

"Trust me." Jim pulls him over to the thicket of pine trees. They're naked together in the back yard, bodies slippery, water falls from their hair in rivers from the ongoing torrential downpour. Jim grabs Bones possessively by the waist. "I want you, right here."

"Lightening," Bones whispers into Jim's ear.

"Yes. You're supposed to find a clump of trees to shelter under," Jim whispers back. "Well, we found some."

"We have a new house that's even better. 'When thunder roars go indoors', Jim. Any idiot knows that--"

Jim begins an assault on the protesting mouth, Bones finally giving in, their teeth clanking and tongues wrestling. Jim latches onto the juncture between Leonard's neck and shoulder, biting, yanking a small yelp. Jim's cock pokes against Bones' thigh, Bones' pokes against Jim's thigh. Another flash of lightening and Bones knocks them both to the flooded ground. They roll around, slippery, rubbing their cocks against each other before Bones tenses at the thunderclap. "Still frightened, Bones?"

"Out of my fucking wits," Bones pants out from underneath Jim. "Wet bodies, y'know we're perfect electrical conductors--"

"Okay, okay. Maybe we should head back in."

Bones flips them both over. "Not a fucking chance in hell now, Jim."

"One Mississippi, two mississippi, three mississippi…"Jim says. Bones reaches down to hold their firm cocks together, his face buried in Jim's shoulder. He tries not to wince too much at the thunder. "Four mississippi, five mississippi. Sounds like it's moving away."

"Don't count on it." They continue to rut together. "We're like a couple of animals out in the wild. Though I think even animals have the good sense not to fuck outside during a thunderstorm."

"God, you're beautiful like this Bones. I can see you. Under the moonlight."

"The moon's hidden under the clouds, Jim. That's the spotlights in the backyard illuminating us."

"Stop trying to kill it for me, Bones."

There's a sudden bright flash and immediate accompanying thunderclap. Jim flips them both over, covering Bones with his body protectively. "Shit! That was right here! Shit!"

"Y'see?"

Jim scrabbles to his feet, pulling Bones up with him. They dart over to the porch, grabbing their clothes, Jim's boots, the empty beer can, the keys. Bones laughs maniacally all the way. They race into the house, throwing the stuff down onto the floor. "Which room haven't we fucked in yet?"

"Kitchen."

Jim pulls Bones into the kitchen, pushes him against the kitchen sink. "Lube."

"Got it." There's a brand new tube of it on the kitchen table. They fuck hard and fast, against the counter, Bones holding on for dear life while he watches the lightening from the safety of the kitchen window.

In bed, after they've showered, dried off and Jim is spooned up behind Bones, Bones lies awake, listening to Jim's snoring, wonders what exciting mischief Jim has planned for tomorrow.

If the weather is better, they're heading into town first thing and getting Bones some boots.

It's good to be home.  
\-----


End file.
